


Laughter Lines

by alexandrasmix



Category: Hockey - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:21:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandrasmix/pseuds/alexandrasmix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex makes chocolate chip pancakes and feels overwhelmed with nostalgia while trying to let go of Brendan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughter Lines

It had been a full season since Brendan's death. 

Alex swears that sometimes when he's home alone in the apartment they used to share and he's lying in bed at night he can still hear him laughing. Laughing like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world when in reality Alex had accidentally dropped a plate. He'd always had a smile on his face and that's what he missed the most: Brendan's warmth. The kitchen wasn't where they spent most of their time but it had been where, when they did have to cook for themselves, they cheated on their diet plans together. It was usually chocolate chip pancakes because they were Brendan's favourite and the only thing Alex didn't seem to burn. Alex remembered how hilarious it was when he tried to get Brendan to help him the first time. 

"You know what? I make you pancakes way too often, it's time you learned how to make them so you don't become so dependant." Alex had teased. 

Brendan had failed miserably on knowing when to flip them so Alex had to step in. He stood behind him, the two were so close together Alex could feel the heat coming off the other boy and could smell the scent of his deodorant. He kissed him on the neck quickly before remembering he was supposed to be the hard ass chef. 

"You can't just flip them whenever you want you dumb ass, otherwise the other side will never cook." Alex instructed. 

"Ugh, Alex this is too hard, can't you do it? They always taste better when you make them." Brendan had pleaded. 

Alex laughed, he knew the other man was trying to get out of doing his fair share of the work. "No, come on I want to taste your shitty pancakes." 

Brendan had either under cooked or burnt every few pancakes but Alex happily ate them anyway. When they finished Alex had taken it upon himself to kiss the chocolate off of Brendan's lips which sent him into a fit of laughter. And what happened after that? Well that was between them - Alex smiled thinking about that day as he headed to the pantry. 

When Brendan died, Alex wasn't sure if he was going to play hockey again. The plan was that they were to retire together and what did hockey matter anymore to Alex when Brendan wasn't going to be there to enjoy it with him and their team? Others on his team had an easier time moving on and he was thankful for that. Brendan didn't want Alex to think that way though. 

No, Alex remembers as he pulls the chocolate chips out of the pantry with shaking hands. Brendan had wanted him to continue with his career and never would have wanted him to give up no matter how much Alex wanted to. 

"I really hate hospitals." Alex said as he held Brendan's hand bringing it to his lips and just enjoying his presence without putting too much thought into all the wires and tubes connected to him. "You should come home, it's warmer there and the beds are softer and it smells a lot nicer." 

Brendan smiled a little, it wasn't as big as they used to be, the dimples barely make a dent in his thinning cheeks- and soon enough Brendan is gagging and Alex reaches for the pail by his bedside and holding it out to catch all the vomit. "It's gonna be okay B," Alex says rubbing his back. "Just let it all out." As if he were regurgitating alcohol instead of his internal organs. Alex only wanted to take the pain away. 

Alex wanted to call himself an expert on the type of cancer Brendan had. It was called Leukemia and unfortunately the doctors called it terminal. He'd researched it all on web MD every off night, he knew the signs, the symptoms, the treatments and how progressive each stage was. What he didn't know was how to save him. Alex wishes he didn't know as much as he did now. To think before his world consisted of hockey and almost nothing else. The centre-men breathes out a sad sigh before mixing in the chocolate chips to his always perfect pancake batter. Sneaking a few before they made it into the batch was always Brendan's favourite part. 

"Ana- it's Brendan." Alex's voice had broken over the phone how he longed for any source of comfort at this point. He was sitting on the floor. "I... I just don't know what to do." 

"Is he alright? What's happened?" 

"He's gotten so much worse." Alex was crying. 

"How bad is it?" 

"Stage four." He could hear Ana's sharp intake of breath over the phone. Alex felt a punching feeling in his gut. "There's nothing I can do anymore." 

"Alex, it's not your fault..." She said choosing her words carefully. "Just spend time with him." 

When Alex hangs up he's sobbing. 

The mix is bubbling in the pan and Alex waits another second before flipping another perfect pancake. The chocolate is oozing out of them just how Brendan used to like them. 

"These taste great, Alex." He beamed with pride as he watched Brendan eat his way through two whole pancakes. Slowly and methodically. He remembered when Brendan used to be able to eat almost eight. 

"Yeah well, eat all of them you nerd." Alex grinned to himself because technically Brendan wasn't supposed to be allowed normal food.

Brendan kissed him lightly in thanks and he tasted like chocolate as he did that first time. "Thank you." He breathed but to Alex it sounded like more of a goodbye. 

"I need you, please." Alex begs kissing him once more, he doesn't leave the hospital that night because he just knows. 

Alex knows the pancakes are done not only because of the golden colour, but because of the smell. They give off a buttery chocolate scent, and it fills the entire kitchen with a cozy aroma that melts away some of his anxiousness. Carefully, he sets two plates out. Three pancakes on his, four on the other. With shaky hands he puts the plate with four pancakes down on the kitchen table, and sits across from the empty chair with his own plate in hand.

“Eat up, Gally,” Alex breathes out, the ghost of a smile glazing over his face when he hears the soft, familiar laughter from the kitchen.


End file.
